Page 29

Kai

She’s been asleep for most of the flight.

I keep working, the quiet hum of engines and soft tapping of keys filling the cabin. We left L.A. at eleven—ten hours ago. Ten hours of letting her storm off into the bedroom after that kiss before takeoff.

The words on my screen blur with the need to drag her out. But at least she’s back with me and that’s enough. For now.

The bedroom door opens and my fingers go still on the keys.

Nicole emerges fresh from the shower, wearing my T-shirt, her damp hair curling around her shoulders. The sight of her in my clothes hits me square in my groin. A ruthless move on her part.

She moves to the bar without acknowledging me, but I catch the slight tremor in her hands as she picks through granola and yogurt options. It’s morning in L.A., but outside the windows, dusk creeps across European skies.

“Evening,” I say, just to see her reaction.

She grunts, and the sound makes me harder. If her plan is to wind me up, it’s working.

She eats slowly by the bar, radiating defiance with every bite. After dumping the empty yogurt pot and spoon, she hesitates, and I see the moment she debates returning to the bedroom. I wait, letting her choose, my pulse roaring like a fucking bass drum.

Finally, she turns toward me, takes one step, then another, that stubborn pride of hers radiating in her tense shoulders.

I shut the laptop and set it aside.

The moment she’s within reach, I drag her right into my lap. She gasps, and instantly tries to scramble off, but I hold her down, then slowly trail my nose along her temple and jaw. “You smell insanely good covered in me.”

“Whatever,” she scoffs, despite the flush spreading up her neck. “Look, you can’t just pluck me out of bed and fly me half across the world when the mood strikes you.”

“I wouldn’t need to if you’d let me in.” I press a kiss to her temple and watch the pulse at the base of her neck kick up faster.

“I’m not speaking to you until you apologize.” She starts to rise, but my arm tightens around her.

“Listen, we land in an hour. You can spend the next sixty minutes listening to tell you how sorry I’m not, or taking my cock in lieu of an apology. Either way, we’re squashing this before we hit the ground.”

She inhales sharply, but her shoulders lift in a noncommittal shrug. “Well, if those are my only options, I’d rather not be talked to death.”

I bite back a chuckle. Of course, she’d choose the second option without actually saying it.

Just for that, I’ll make sure that by the time we land, she won’t be able to look a single member of the crew in the eye. A fitting reward . . . and punishment for her stubborn pride.